


Forever and Always

by kowaidesuka



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canonical Character Death, Childhood, Childhood Friends, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Not Actually Unrequited Love, POV Outsider, Pre-Relationship, Reunions, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Will add tags as I go, ephlyon week 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-27 11:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21118196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kowaidesuka/pseuds/kowaidesuka
Summary: "Lyon... If I could have one wish, I would be with you again, my friend."A collection of works for Ephlyon Week 2019.Day 1:Light/DarknessDay 2: Sparring/StudyingDay 3:Regret/ForgivenessDay 4:Childhood/ReunionDay 5AU/Anything





	1. Daybreak

**Author's Note:**

> IT'S HERE IT'S FINALLY HERE!! 
> 
> anyway these are just mostly fluff pieces tbh because I like writing universes where Lyon can be happy :') 
> 
> Day 1: Daybreak  
Theme: Light  
Tags: canon divergence AU, established relationship
> 
> "Daybreak: the time in the morning when daylight first appears; dawn. A time when darkness yields to light, for a new day, new opportunities".

Lyon stirred awake at the sensation of light shining directly in his line of vision, and a pair of strong arms around his waist. 'Did he forget to shut the curtains before he went to bed again?' he thought, exasperated; yet despite his annoyance, his lips formed a fond smile. He squinted at the open window, breath hitching at the sight of swirling red, orange, and purple in the sky, and gold rays peeking over the mountains and woods of Southern Renais.

A good minute is spent trying to fully turn his body within the tight grip he was ensnared in, but finally the young prince was able to shift onto his other side and face his captor: a long-time friend and pillar of hope and support, and more recently, a lover. He leaned in a little, admiring Ephraim’s face softened from sleep, chuckling quietly to himself at the sight of his unkempt bed hair. He knew that the Renais prince had prone to waking up before the sun rose, being a person that actually enjoyed early morning sparring. At least, that was his lifestyle before everything had changed.

He frowned a little as his gaze fell downward on the noticeable bags under the prince's eyes; he knew he didn't look any better; weeks of endless planning, restoration, and general dissent would do that to anyone. 

It hadn't been the greatest year for him. Six months since his father had passed, leaving him to bear the immense weight of the crown. Three months since the earthquake, a catastrophic one, unlike the tremors his old homeland, Grado, was accustomed to. Hundreds of homes gone in one night. An uprising of bandits, taking advantage of the estranged, injured, and deceased by looting and pillaging. Half of the generals, so loyal to his father's cause, turning their noses up at the thought of him leading them and running off to wherever they desired.

It wasn't all bad, though. He had Knoll, Duessel, and Selena, Glen and his brother, a relatively green recruit called Cormag, as well as the surviving members of court and clergy. He had the support of the remaining citizens of his empire, the ones he, almost miraculously, managed to evacuate safely. Even more surprisingly, the eastbound nations Jehanna and Rausten, kingdoms Grado had yet to forge bonds with, quickly presented themselves as allies and aids to help restore his homeland. Frelia was also willing to lend help. And finally, he of course had Eirika and Ephraim.

Lyon shuddered; what would've happened if he didn't reach out to the twins once more? The morning after that awful night half a year ago, a night of pacing his dead father's chamber, of just staring at the stone, dread and grief weighing him down like a dense iron chain. He very nearly went through with it, books at the ready, but all of a sudden, voices had spoken to him, lines from old memories intruding the foreground of his mind. Of Father McGregor's scolding him, his admonishments to not touch the stone under any circumstances. Of Vigarde's last words to him, reassuring him that he could do right. His last interactions with his first true friends, who believed in him despite his weaknesses.

He lay there, wanting to bask in the warmth of both the rising sun and his love for the man beside him. But of course, duty called, as it did every day. He leaned in to kiss Ephraim's nose, smiling in delight when his eyes instantly snapped open. "Good morning," he said, blinking, voice still raspy.

"Have you been awake all this time?" Lyon teased, lifting his hand to brush back his fringe.

"Felt you squirming around. I figured if I didn't move and kept on holding you, you'd give up and we could sleep in." Ephraim chuckled, planting soft kisses on his neck and under his jaw. He hummed softly, content to nuzzle against the side of his lover's cheek.

"And miss our council meeting? As if I'd let you get away with ditching again." He chastised him by lightly smacking Ephraim on the arm.

Ephraim groaned. "Must I go? I feel that between you, Eirika, and Father, my work would be done. I'm no good with words," he said, brows furrowed in frustration.

"You're getting better at it, Ephraim. At least Innes doesn't openly mock you anymore." He continued to run his hands through turquoise locks.

"Yet another reason for me not to look forward to it. Growing up, he’s always said the best place in court for me was being the jester," he replied, scowling.

He laughed. "Prince Innes is not that bad. But if you really fear his rebuking-"

The Renais prince growled, "I am not afraid of him-"

"-then we can practice what you want to say. We still have a little time before we have to get ready," he finished.

"Hmph. Fine. I guess I'll start with what we've found out from our scouting in Jehanna. Queen Ishmaire sends her apologies; she seemed to have found a lead on where her long-lost son may be."

Lyon hummed sympathetically. "I hope she does find the prince soon. Ten years is too long to be away from home."

"Indeed. Anyway, the refugees sent there have been settling in nicely. It took some time for them to be acclimated to the dry, hot weather though."

"Oh." He bit his lip. "Well… we don't have a lot of the housing ready. About 10% of the kingdom has been rebuilt, but maybe we'll be able to speed up that process over the next month…"

"Whoa, slow down there." Ephraim lifted one arm up to brush at his cheek, stopping Lyon's brain from going into overdrive. 

"I know you want to do right by your people after all that's happened. But you don't need to overwork and overworry yourself. You've kept most of your citizens safe and healthy. You've already gotten a considerable chunk of Grado restored. And it's huge. Your homeland was massive! Remember how Eirika and I used to get lost around the town without you there?"

He continued to frown. "There's still a lot to do. I want… I want my people to be happy too."

"And they will. As long as you're leading, they'll have a kind, watchful emperor to protect them." He paused to press a kiss on Lyon's forehead. "Just… take it one day at a time."

"... Okay. Thank you." 

"One other thing," Ephraim continued, with a sombre expression. "My knights found Caellech in Jehanna as well. They came back late last night to report on the matter."

Lyon frowned at this. Out of all his father's old generals, Caellech was probably one of the most intimidating, and rough around the edges. "Caellech did use to reside in Jehanna. I suppose it'd make sense for him to return there."

"They caught him skulking around slums and the like. He hasn't done anything wrong yet but… well from what you told me about him, it's only a matter of time." He never did like the look of Caellech, even as a small child getting acclimated to Grado court life. His father had always excused his dark humour and strange demeanour as his nature, but… maybe there was something to it.

Lyon sighed. "I just hope it won't end up like with what happened to Valter." The moonstone general, who had long since been driven to madness by his own weapon, had been killed in a fight with Seth and the other knights after reports of him terrorizing villages on the outskirts of Renais.

Ephraim grimaced. "Yeah, that wasn't… that wasn't great."

The Grado prince hummed, getting up from the bed to stretch, trying not to shiver from the frigid morning air. He tugged at Ephraim’s arm playfully, the other man cheekily refusing to budge in response. “Come on, you massive lump. We’ve dallied enough,” he called, voice trailing as he left the room to change. 

Finally Ephraim sat up too, stretching. “That was good enough for today’s meeting, right? I really don’t have much else to say,” he asked, mumbling the last part. Lyon came back into the room, shrugging on his robes. “Exemplary effort,” he said, smiling, and leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. “Now come on, get ready. You’re no fool, but if you show up late and haphazard, you’d certainly look the part.”

As the Renais prince busied himself with his morning routine, Lyon took a small moment to admire the beauty of the sunrise, as day finally broke over Magvel. “One day at a time,” he said quietly to himself, his beloved’s words a comforting thought. 

Miles away in Grado, the stone remained buried in the castle chamber, untouched for months.


	2. A Feeling Left Unwritten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: Sparring/**Studying**
> 
> _Lyon knew that it would be a bad idea, that it was merely a distraction to once again keep the restless prince from trawling through the scriptures their tutor prescribed. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision, not when Ephraim was dragging him behind him, laughing and chattering all the while._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 2: A Feeling Left Unwritten  
Theme: Studying  
Tags: childhood, pre-relationship

“It’s so… thick.” The young prince looked at the open tome in apprehension. “And the letters are so small.”

“But you’re going to have to read it, Ephraim,” he replied, tone almost pleading. “You don’t want Father MacGregor to discipline you again, right?”

“I’m no good with books,” Ephraim grumbled, flipping through a few pages. “The problem is they don’t move. I get bored silly… wait, what are you doing?” In the middle of his ranting, Lyon had taken the book, still open, in his arms, shifting it around the air in erratic circles.

“You said the problem is they don’t move,” Lyon said dryly, still wiggling the book around. “Well? Go on then.”

“That’s- not funny,” the turquoise-haired prince replied, cracking up anyway. “That’s- wait, keep doing that, it might actually work.” He leaned forward, attempting to read the moving words.

Lyon promptly stopped and set down the book. “Nope, nuh-uh, you’ll make yourself sick if you read like that.”

Ephraim tilted his head. “Really? How do you know?”

“Well… maybe you wouldn’t feel as bad, but I always get sick to my stomach whenever I read on carriage rides. I try not to do it as much anymore though.”

“Really? Huh. And what do you think causes that?” Ephraim looked to him, rapt with attention.

“Um… I’m not sure actually. I think some of the court troubadours may have some journal writings on the phenomenon when I informed them of it, but-”

“Really?” His eyes lit up. “Could I have a look?”

“Uh…” Not that he thought his best friend was dumb, but he was pretty adamant about his hatred for books, not even five minutes ago. “I think we better get back to studying for history,” he said finally, trying to gently dissuade Ephraim.

“Please?” his friend begged. “Just for a while. I really need a break, Lyon.”

Lyon sighed. “Alright,” he acquiesced. “I’ll go ask the clerics for a copy.”

The turquoise-haired prince spent a good chunk of the day happily flicking through the medical texts, much to the amusement of the court clerics, and the exasperation of Lyon. He shook his head, biting back a grin at the endearing sight of his friend focused on the contents of the journal. ‘I guess we’ll have to try again tomorrow,’ he thought.

\---

_”Prince Lyon,” Fado called out. _

_Lyon walked over, bowing his head low. “Your highness.”_

_“Oh, come now, no need for such formalities,” the king of Renais said, laughing warmly. “My son tells me you offered to help him catch up on his studies.”_

_“But of course,” he replied. “I’ll always help a friend in need.”_

_“I’ve been friends with your father for a long time, and he has always praised your compassion and studiousness. I’ve no doubt that you’d be an excellent study partner. However…”_

_“Yes?” Lyon prompted._

_“Ephraim is… quite difficult when it comes to his studies. If he’s not up to the task, not feeling it whatsoever, he is… a force to be reckoned with. Can you handle that?”_

_“Um… I’ll try my best,” he said, confused by the king’s words. _

\---

“Lyon, I got your note,” Ephraim said, walking across the castle courtyard to where Lyon sat in the shade of a cedar tree. “We are… studying here?” He gestured to the open books and parchment surrounding the Grado prince.

“Uh-huh,” he smiled, patting a free patch of grass next to him. “I figured maybe it’d be better to do it in fresh air, get out of the stuffiness of the library.”

"Hmm, I guess I do feel a bit better being outside," he said, taking a seat. "I'm more used to being out here. 

"It's really nice here, your homeland," he continued. "The summers in Renais get awfully hot. I'm kind of glad to be free from that for this year."

"That's very kind of you to say, Ephraim," Lyon said, beaming at him. "It's nice of you to take such an interest in Grado. Why don’t I teach you more about my country today?" His smile became a little mischievous as he dragged a book onto Ephraim’s lap, trying not to chuckle at the other prince's betrayed expression.

An hour passed, with his blue-haired companion becoming increasingly fidgety. Lyon put the book down again, sighing. “Do you wish to take a break now, Ephraim?” Ephraim looked surprised. “Really? We can do that?”

Lyon chuckled. “It’s true that we have a lot to go over and catch up on for today. But it’s actually a very prudent study habit to take short, frequent breaks.” He paused, taking in the way Ephraim’s eyes sparkled in delight at his words. “Perhaps we could take a short walk, stretch our legs a little?”

At once, the prince of Renais leapt to his feet. “Alright! Let’s go.” Pausing in his excitement to help pull Lyon to his feet, he continued, “Is it okay if we walk around there?” He pointed toward the woodlands surrounding the castle.

Lyon knew that it would be a bad idea, that it was merely a distraction to once again keep the restless prince from trawling through the scriptures their tutor prescribed. But he couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision, not when Ephraim was dragging him behind him, laughing and chattering all the while.

\---

“Pardon the intrusion,” Lyon said, his voice forcefully light and pleasant as he hovered in the doorway of Ephraim’s guest room, early morning the next day. Ephraim himself stumbled back, hair still rumpled and sleep still in his eyes.

“I thought it might be nice to study in your room,” he continued, dumping the heavy tomes on the desk with a loud thump. “It’s convenient for you, it’s familiar, perhaps more comfortable than sitting on the hard chairs in the library…” He looked around the room, inadvertently wrinkling his nose. “A little unkempt though, if I may say.”

“Oh, is it? Sorry, Lyon, let me just-” And he dashed out of the room, leaving a confused Lyon in his wake. A few minutes later, he returned, mop, rags, and a bucket full of soapy water in his hands.

Lyon shot him an incredulous look. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Cleaning up after myself. I am, after all, a guest in your home. I ought to do my part and keep everything nice and tidy,” he said with a wry grin, twirling the mop like it was one of his prized lances.

“Yes, tidy up, not cleanse completely!” he exclaimed. “Ephraim, please. Put the mop down and take a seat.” But the teal-haired prince had already begun mopping, splashing suds on the stone floor. 

“You can just read the rest to me and test me afterwards or something. Please?” Ephraim turned to him, eyes beseeching. “I prefer thinking and learning on my feet. Plus, I enjoy hearing you speak.”

“I…” Lyon felt flustered at the compliment. “Very well then. But after you clean, you’re sitting back down and reading through it properly. We have to finish this particular book today.”

It was hard to maintain his stern disposition, even as Ephraim had proceeded to get most of his impromptu quiz questions wrong. Not when his heart felt as light and happy as it did.


	3. Any Last Words?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: **Regret**/Forgiveness
> 
> _“I’m going to save you! I’ll find a way! I love you!”_
> 
> _The words etched on his upper arm felt practically like a death sentence. Or at least that’s what ten-year-old Lyon thought, ever the young pessimist._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 3: Any Last Words?  
Theme: Regret  
Tags: soulmate au where your soulmate’s last words spoken to you are written on one’s body instead of their first words, death

_“I’m going to save you! I’ll find a way! I love you!”_

The words etched on his upper arm felt practically like a death sentence. Or at least that’s what ten-year-old Lyon thought, ever the young pessimist.

Honestly, was there any way to interpret having to be saved as good, and also having that be the last words his soulmate would say to him?

A plethora of dark hypothetical scenarios entered his mind - a plague taking over his frail body (he had always been so, so weak), his soulmate clutching at his hand, promising to find a cure; a kidnapping where he never saw his beloved again, ripped prematurely from love and happiness; a skirmish on the battlefield gone wrong where he fell to the ground in a heap, the unknown love of his life running to him frantically.

His father shook his head and patted him reassuringly, telling him not to stay so ‘in his head’ about it. “It will not do you well to dwell on it,” he had said. “It is better to live in the present, to enjoy the moments with your soulmate while you can.” He smiled down at his son.

“But…” Lyon was still hesitant. “I still won’t know, for sure, until it happens, right?”

Vigarde nodded pensively. “True, but… it sounds like they’re someone very dear to you, someone who has known you well enough to love you. You’ll just have to make sure to cherish every moment with those close to you.”

And so he kept his father’s wise words to heart, keeping those he had opened his heart to close to him, and savouring the moments he’d spend with them. _Eirika… Ephraim... _

Even when it cast doubt in his own abilities. Even when it pierced his heart with the worst jealousy. Even when it filled him with grief, and drove him to get back those moments, to have more, _as it was too soon, he wasn’t ready, he couldn’t do it without his father, he just couldn’t._

\---

_“C’mon, Ephraim, smile. Like you used to…”_

Ephraim’s words were as vague and uninspiring as his normal way of speech was. “So befitting of you,” Eirika had half-joked, half-complained. “Honestly, it doesn’t tell you anything about them, really. Although I guess not all of us are as lucky as me,” she said, triumphantly revealing her own soulmark for what seemed like the umpteenth time; it was a long paragraph on how some person called L’Arachel promised to love her forever, from even the afterlife. Ephraim shook his head in exasperation at the thought of having such an exhausting life partner.

His soulmate telling him to smile could apply to a number of situations. His first thought, as always, was a battlefield setting, and his life partner dying an honourable death but wanting to leave their last moments together light, and happy, sentimental even. 

Occasionally, however, his mind drifted to a more domestic setting… long after there were no more wars to be had, after he hung up his weapons and battle armour for the last time, a long fulfilling life with his soulmate, of dying peacefully in their sleep.

He seldom stopped to wonder who exactly his soulmate was. He had his hopes, sure. A supportive partner, one who could not only put up with his blunt way of talking and fast-paced lifestyle, but cherish it, even with some modicum of exasperation. Preferably a soulmate who’d be way more proficient at navigating court politics, like his sister. But he wouldn’t know who it was until it happened, so there was no use dwelling on it.

Even as the continent of Magvel had plunged into chaos and warfare. Even as he risked his life daily, battling enemy soldiers and supernatural monsters alike. Even as he observed his sister cuddling with her own soulmate, the outspoken princess of Rausten, so thankful that they were able to meet and spend some time together before heading out to risk their lives again the next day… he couldn’t think of that unknown person, the one desiring to see him smile for one last time. He had to go save his best friend first.

_ Lyon… I'm coming for you… I’ll save you, I swear it. _

\---

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lyon,” Ephraim snapped, hands shaking. Lyon couldn’t blame him for the anger directed at him, the sad and frustrated look the teal-haired prince affixed onto him. “Who was it that taught me history? Who covered for me when I stumbled? Didn’t you see how I looked up to you? I admired your compassion, your wisdom, your thoughtfulness…” He finished his rant with a choked sob.

With considerable effort, Lyon lifted his head slightly, breath staggering, smiling serenely at his old friend. He supposed it was fitting for him to be sentimental in their last moment together, to share thoughts of old carefree childhood days, where it was just him, Ephraim, Ephraim's lovely radiant smile directed at him, making his cheeks burn and heart fill with warmth. 

“Oh, yeah…” he agreed, voice feeble and quaking. “That seems so long ago… I did keep you out of trouble, didn’t I?” Ephraim nodded frantically, gripping his hand even tighter. “Thanks for remembering. See? You’re thoughtful, too…” He could barely keep his eyes open at this point. It hurt so much. He was so, so tired.

“Lyon… Wait! Don’t close your eyes!”

_Why not? It seemed like such a good idea…_

“I’m going to save you!-”

Lyon’s eyes widened in realisation. _Ah, so it was you… this whole time..._

“I’ll find a way! I-”

“No, _don’t_,” he said, words coming out more forcefully than intended. _Please, no… I can’t bear to hear it… not now. Not ever. _ “... Thanks, anyway. It was all my fault…” He couldn't fathom Ephraim having even an inkling of forgiveness, of love for him. For a coward, a weakling and a killer such as him. How could he possibly?

He didn’t like the stricken look on Ephraim’s face, much preferring the radiant grin on his face, the one that made his heart flutter and reminded him of the blinding sun. “Don’t look so sad,” he chastised him weakly. “C’mon, Ephraim-”

\---

“C’mon, Ephraim, smile. Like you used to…”

Ephraim’s eyes widened in realisation. _No… NO!_ But it was too late for them; the prince’s eyes dulled as he passed on. Cradling Lyon’s head gently with one hand, he used the other to frantically tug up the right sleeve of his robe, the same spot where his own mark was printed. The words, the ones Lyon had kept hidden all these years, mirrored the exact same speech he had uttered just now, in a desperate, foolish endeavour to keep his friend alive.

“... Lyon…” That one word was quiet, barely ghosted over his lips, yet filled with unbridled anguish.


	4. Hello? It's Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“That was _ because _ you left,” he replied. “I was sad because I was losing my two best friends.”_
> 
> _“Would it make you feel better if I told you I really, really didn’t want to go? So much that I superglued the back of my shirt to my bedroom wall so I couldn’t ever leave?”_
> 
> _Lyon laughed at that. “I actually heard about that. Your mom told my mom… first thing she did right after she hung up was sit me down for a pre-emptive lecture. She definitely thought you were a bad influence on me.” _
> 
> Modern late 90's/early 00's AU where Colm is being a lil shit and prank calls using his parents’ phone conference call system, inadvertently reuniting two childhood friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 4: Hello? It's Me  
Theme: Childhood/Reunion (a little bit of both tbh)  
Tags: Modern AU, Outsider POV, Childhood, Fluff

Boring, boring, boring. Whoever said summer was fun clearly never knew Colm’s parents. Acting up during the last few weeks of school resulted in him getting the grounding of a lifetime. The teen was stuck at home, cleaning out his dad's home office and sorting old files and junk to toss out. 

"What the hell is this thing," he muttered, grabbing a strange device that looked like a cross between a phone and a paperweight out of a random box. He repeated this question to his father (without the ‘hell’ part, of course) when he came back with more boxes of junk from the garage.

“Hmm? Oh, this ol’ thing.” His dad picked it up. “Used to use it for teleconference meetings for Frelia Corp. whenever I worked from home.” He frowned, placing it back on the desk. “Actually, I’m pretty sure this was company-issued… and I was meant to return it. Ah well. Don’t tell your mother.”

As a few days of summer vacation went by, Colm began to realise his punishment was not cruel at all - just extremely mundane. A simple set of rules. No leaving the house, no TV or computer time; one or both of his parents would stay in the house to supervise but weren’t bothered to watch him like a hawk or breathe down his neck to get more things done. He had about 20 boxes or so to sort out, and the whole summer to sort them out. If he finished early, good for him! He could do whatever he wanted, as long as it was within the limits of the aforementioned rules. 

As a result, by week 2, he was mostly done with the boxes, but incredibly bored out of his mind. What can he say? He was a fourteen year old with a limited work ethic; all he wanted was to hang out with his friends outside, or waste his summer away in front of a screen.

He turned to the device he encountered before, the strange phone system that apparently could dial multiple people at once without too much hassle (as his dad had put it). That… could be fun.

He decided to test it a few times, to see if the system had potential. After calling up his usual gang of friends all at once to reassure them he hadn’t died from the heat or boredom (it was a disorderly and cacophonous call that he hung up on quickly to not rouse suspicion from his mom), he went on to dial the number of two competitive pizza places, staying silent on his end.

“Serafew Pizza, this is Glen speaking, how can I help you?”

“Hi, Gerik’s Slices here, how may we help you today?”

“Hello, yes, can I help you?”

“Yes, would you like to order anything, sir?”

“Uh… sorry? What was it that you wanted to order?”

Colm tried to quell his cackles so as not to alert the victims of his prank.

Considering his initial trial a success, he continued his series of pranks, exploiting his dad’s old conference call system to call pairs and groups of random people, leaving them to have awkward conversations, and sometimes even shouting matches over who called first because ‘it can’t have possibly been them!’ The only call he personally stopped short was when he had subjected his childhood friend, Neimi to one. Though his friend was admittedly a big crybaby, Colm decided to disconnect the other caller when the girl started to sound distressed.

Dialling yet another two numbers, Colm rubbed his hands gleefully as he heard the familiar crackle of someone picking up. “Hello?”

Another crackle, then the other voice called out “Um, hello?”

“Yes, who is this?” The first voice, blunt and rough, sounded vaguely annoyed.

“Um, yeah, this is Lyon. But you’re the one that called _me_ so-”

“Wait a second,” the caller interjected, sounding surprised. “_Lyon?_ Lyon _Grado_?”__

_ _“Yes? Who exactly is asking…?”_ _

_ _“I don’t know if you even remember me but… we went to elementary school together, me, you, and my twin sister-”_ _

_ _“Oh my g-god, _Ephraim?_” The voice belonging to this ‘Lyon’ guy exclaimed this, sounding hopeful and a little… teary? If the crack in his voice was anything to go by. “Is that really you, Eph?”_ _

_ _“Yes!” A joyous laugh came from the other caller, who Colm discovered was called ‘Ephraim’._ _

_ _“It’s so great to hear from you again. God, it’s been like, what, ten years?”_ _

_ _“Seems about right,” Ephraim agreed. “So… this is a surprise. What made you decide to call me?”_ _

_ _“What? No, you called me,” Lyon said, confused. “Although… I’m surprised as well, that you’d want to hear from me again. I thought you, um… somehow forgot about me. I wasn't really that fun to be around, honestly…"_ _

_ _"No, no!" Ephraim was quick to disagree. "I, uh. Okay. This sounds like a really bad excuse... but when we moved out of state, somehow the number you gave me was lost in the fray. And then Eirika tried contacting the school, but they wouldn’t give out your number and…” He sighed. “Honestly, we were the ones who thought that you didn’t want to speak to us. You seemed really upset with us when we left.”_ _

_ _“That was _because_ you left,” he replied. “I was sad because I was losing my two best friends.”_ _

_ _“Would it make you feel better if I told you I really, really didn’t want to go? So much that I superglued the back of my shirt to my bedroom wall so I couldn’t ever leave?”_ _

_ _Lyon laughed at that. “I actually heard about that. Your mom told my mom… first thing she did right after she hung up was sit me down for a pre-emptive lecture. She definitely thought you were a bad influence on me.” _ _

_ _“But really,” Ephraim continued, “Of course I wanted to talk to you. You were my best friend. Just… I figured, since I didn’t hear from you…”_ _

_ _“So I didn’t hear from you because you didn’t hear from me, and as a result, you didn’t hear from me,” Lyon summarised. “God, we were such stupid kids back then.” The pair paused the conversation to chuckle at each other. “Regardless, I’m pretty glad that you decided to reach out to me.”_ _

_ _“Lyon, what are you talking about? You’re the one who called me,” Ephraim argued._ _

_ _“Well, whatever it was. It’s just… really nice to hear from you again,” he replied, softly._ _

_ _“Yeah… I really missed you...”_ _

_ _An awkward pause. And then, simultaneously, “So-” “So-”_ _

_ _“No, you go ahead,” Lyon said. Colm rolled his eyes at the exchange, as sappy and melodramatic as the romance films he suffered through when hanging out with Neimi._ _

_ _“So…” Ephraim continued. “I actually moved back to Magvel.”_ _

_ _“Really? That’s amazing!”_ _

_ _“Yeah, for college. I transferred to Serafew College, actually.”_ _

_ _“Oh! That’s near where I live.”_ _

_ _“No shit, really?”_ _

_ _“Well, an hour away, but still…”_ _

_ _“Ugh, you two are boring,” Colm groaned._ _

_ _Another pause. Then both of them spoke at once. “What-” “Who was that-” “Who are you-” and Colm realised, too late, he forgot to hit the mute button when he had originally dialled their numbers._ _

_ _“Shit,” he said eloquently, before hanging up and blocking both their numbers for good measure. Perhaps it was time to stop with the pranks._ _

_ _\------ _ _

_ _Colm didn’t give much thought to his antics that summer until two years later, picking up his dad’s newspaper that had dropped to the kitchen floor after his parents had left for work that day. The paper had opened to the local news section, with a small paragraph detailing the wedding of one Lyon Grado and Ephraim Renais. “Huh, so they managed to find each other again after all,” he muttered, folding the paper up and tossing it in the bin._ _


	5. All Right, Let’s Film!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Ephraim personally thought Lyon was super talented and deserved all the awards the various actor guilds and companies could throw at him. He loved how versatile Lyon was in his acting, from the sad and subtle poignancy he was able to evoke as the tragic figure of Prince Naglfar, to the gritty, evil, downright sadistic disposition of the Demon King that possessed the prince right before the events of the movie._
> 
> _Eirika agreed, of course, but her compliments were, in her own words, ‘ten times less lovesick than yours, bro’._
> 
> Actors AU - FE8 is an upcoming film, featuring distinguished actors and newcomers alike. Ephraim is a little bit too enamoured with his new castmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 5: All Right, Let’s Film!  
Theme: AU/Anything  
Tags: Actors AU, Modern AU

“It’s around 6am now,” Ephraim groaned into the front camera of his phone, running his hands through his hair. “Vig told us it’ll be a full day of filming for us, they’re apparently going to film a few flashback scenes in the morning ‘coz of the lighting outside, and maybe even a few scenes for the finale, which I hope y’all are excited about.” He winked at the camera. “Either way, it’s gonna be a makeup-heavy day for us. But I wonder - could I pass for 15 right now?” He turned his head from side to side, posing. “Eirika, however, she just looks perpetually 12 years old.” He pointed the camera at his sister, causing her to scowl behind the wheel. 

“Ephraim, put that down and stop flailing around, I’m trying to drive here,” she snapped. He turned the camera back toward him, grimacing. “Yikes. Sorry guys, she’s never been much of a morning person. I’ll see you guys around, and don’t forget to mark your calendars for October 7th.” 

Taking his thumb off his screen and tapping a few times to upload his story, Ephraim said, “Hey, let’s stop at Dunkin’ on the way.”

“No, Ephraim, I wanna get there in time to go over my lines one more time. I don’t think I have them all down pat.”

“C’mon, what’s the rush?” he coaxed. “It’s only like, 15 minutes. I’ll go over lines with you if you want, while we wait.”

Eirika squinted at him. “And potentially leak the lines of the script? No way. Vigarde would skin us alive.”

“Drive-through then?” he offered with a grin.

“Ugh. Fine.”

Although she was reluctant to make a detour at first, Eirika brightened up once united with her one true love: caffeine. Taking a quick sip of her frappe, she exited the lot, driving in the direction of their destination, IS Studios.

The car was silent for a moment before Ephraim piped up with a “Let me stroke your face.”

Eirika recognised the line immediately and fired back with “Enough, brother! You are starting to make me angry.”

“The line is ‘Enough, brother, you are starting to anger me,’” her brother corrected.

She eyed him from the corner of her eye as the car stopped at yet another red light. “I’m starting to relate more and more to Sieglinde with every passing day.”

“Don’t give me that look,” he pouted. “Come on, admit it. You enjoy working with me again.”

Eirika and Ephraim had debuted in several TV shows and movies in their childhood, their gimmick being their genuine sibling dynamic. In recent years, however, the twins had branched off to do their own, separate things, Ephraim doing a wide variety of action films and starting up a vlog channel, and Eirika loving her work in voice acting and sci-fi shows. The two were excited when yet another spinoff of their favourite show, The Shield of Flames, was announced, and even more thrilled when they auditioned for the lead roles and got the parts.

“... I guess it is pretty nice to see you every day again,” she finally answered, smiling.

\------

_ “You were born to be Emperor of Grado, Naglfar,” said Sieglinde, pride in her voice for her friend and his fruitful endeavours. “It suits you.”_

_Prince Naglfar shook his head, biting his lip and looking hesitant. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not– One thing I do know from watching my father is that being emperor is hard. Every day, he answers the complaints of the people, and he almost never sleeps… My father is always so very tired. I hope one day that… I hope that I can help him.”_

_“Naglfar, you’re so honourable,” Sieglinde complimented. “You should learn from him, Brother.”_

_A short pause, before Sieglinde swiftly elbowed her brother in the stomach, resulting in a winded ‘Oof!’ from Siegmund. _

(“That’s not in the script,” the producer murmured to Vigarde. The director brushed him off. “Let them do their thing for now.”)

_ Siegmund affixed his sister with a glare. “... Again, with your criticism! Tell me, Sieglinde. What say you to dressing like me and becoming king in my stead? You’re so skinny, I doubt anyone would notice you’re not really a man.”_

_“Siegmund!” The princess’ face contorted with anger, but between the two quarrelling siblings, Naglfar stood, laughing softly at their antics. _

“Cut!”

The trio instantly relaxed from their poses - or in Ephraim’s case, doubled over. “Eirika,” he huffed, “That really hurt. Like, actually, really hurt.”

Lyon gently guided him toward a vacant chair, Eirika trailing behind, laughing, “Sorry about that, bro.” His purple-haired co-star patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll be back with some water,” he said, trying not to laugh himself, and walked away. Ephraim wheezed out a “Thanks” before he walked out of earshot.

“I really didn’t plan on elbowing you that hard,” she said, giggling as he poked gingerly at his stomach. “It’s just… you seemed very transfixed on our dear friend, I was scared that you would miss your cue to talk.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Ephraim replied, though his face started to flush.

“I can imagine it now: hordes of fans gushing over the bromance between Siegmund and Naglfar…”

“Shut up.”

Lyon came back, carrying several bottles of water in his arms, accompanied by two familiar figures: Joshua, an older actor who played Audhulma, the lost prince of Jehanna; and Innes, with the role of Nidhogg, snarky prince of Frelia, and good friends with Eirika, as they were both stars in a sci-fi drama that was long discontinued.

“Hey guys!” Eirika said, especially excited to see her old friend. Ephraim nodded at them while he drank his water. He held his bottle up to Lyon as he opened up his own, in a mock toast; Lyon laughed and reciprocated the gesture, causing the turquoise-haired man to smile more widely.

“What are you even doing here?” she continued. “I thought you guys would have the morning off.”

“Vigarde asked if we were available to come in the morning and film some character interactions that don’t need you,” Innes said in his usual deadpan tone. The actor was semi-famous for his resting bitch face and flat delivery of lines, a point of contention for many fans who meet him in real life. Innes used it to his advantage though, given the jerk-ish, ‘wise guy’ roles he gravitated towards. “He wanted everyone here for the finale scenes anyway.”

“We’re pretty much all just waiting on L’arachel to finish with her group.” Joshua brushed through his red mane of hair, which he grew out for the filming of Sacred Stones. “Apparently there were problems with Rennac and Dozla confusing her name and her character’s name.” He snorted. 

“Wow, what amateurs,” said Ephraim jokingly.

“As if you could talk… Naggle-far,” Lyon replied slyly, reminding everyone of Ephraim’s blunder during Day 1 of filming. The rest of the group laughed, Joshua clapping Lyon on his back. Ephraim rolled his eyes, but secretly he was happy that the man was getting along with the rest of the cast. Lyon, having only acted in plays and musicals before, was nervous about acting for film, as he had confided in Ephraim the first day they met during cast introductions around a month back. And it had indeed shown during filming for the past few weeks, through the wide evocative moments and frontal stances he picked up from his experience on the stage. Though with some pointers from the twins, the purple-haired man gradually grew into his role and into acting in front of a camera.

Ephraim personally thought Lyon was super talented and deserved all the awards the various actor guilds and companies could throw at him. He loved how versatile Lyon was in his acting, from the sad and subtle poignancy he was able to evoke as the tragic figure of Prince Naglfar, to the gritty, evil, downright sadistic disposition of the Demon King that possessed the prince right before the events of the movie.

Eirika agreed, of course, but her compliments were, in her own words, ‘ten times less lovesick than yours, bro’.

It was at that moment when their director approached them. “Alright, everyone, it’s time,” Vigarde said, expression stern. The man was a veteran in show business, and often adopted a ‘tough love’ persona for his actors. He rewarded the cast and crew with pizza parties on particularly grueling days of filming, and absolutely loathed outtakes, but allowed everyone to take breathers when needed. “Head to costuming if you need to change. If you’re already in battle gear, head to makeup. Ephraim, since you’re doing your own stunts, grab your horse.” 

Accustomed to action, and qualified in jousting and horseback riding (taking those lessons for that King Arthur adaptation paid off), Ephraim had opted to perform his own stunts. He reveled in the thrill of riding a horse into battle. Another perk was getting to tease Eirika every time she had to swap with her own stuntwoman.

“I’ll see you crazy kids later,” Joshua waved, already in the appropriate clothes and makeup for his appearance in the finale. Apparently everyone except those with swordmaster roles had to look unkempt and dirt-covered. Lucky bastards.

Lyon followed behind Eirika and Innes, who were heading to costuming. “See you on the other side,” he said, beaming at him. Ephraim waved back, feeling his cheeks warm again.

\------

"Well… come then." Lyon stood before him, leaning in close, appraising him with a challenging stare.

"...Here I come, Naglfar." The solemn expression on Ephraim's face quickly broke as he waggled his eyebrows and stuck out his tongue. The lewd action was enough to make Lyon crack up, the sound of his laughter making Ephraim’s stomach flutter. Behind the set came Vigarde’s exasperated cry of “Cut!” and around them, the rest of the cast members relaxed their tense stances. The director made their way toward them, weaving around a camera dolly before standing before the pair, expression stern. “Ephraim, this is the second time this month you pulled something like this. Please… refrain.” Ephraim nodded, looking apologetic. “No more stunts- well. The only stunts I want you to pull are ones on your horse,” Vigarde joked, gaze still dour. 

He then turned to Lyon. “Lyon, are you alright to continue with this scene? Or do you need a breather to calm down?”

Lyon coughed. “N-no, I’m… I’m totally fine…” he looked over at Ephraim, and he must have imagined the expression on Ephraim’s face once more as he started to wheeze with laughter again.

Vigarde sighed, looking at the two as if they were responsible for shaving years off his lifespan. “Everyone, take twenty. Stretch, eat a snack if you’re hangry. Crew, let’s go over the tapes.” The cast and crew bustled about, scattering to eat, chat, chill, or perform various off-camera duties.

“Hey,” Ephraim began, addressing his co-star. “I’m really sorry for messing you up, but… I really couldn’t help it with those lines.” _Plus,_ he added internally, _it’s really nice to see and hear you laugh_.

“No, I get it,” Lyon said with a laugh. “Those lines were kind of… well you know.”

“Yeah… I know.” Shit, shit, shit. He was able to memorise and recall hundreds of lines on any given day, and yet, being alone with Lyon, his mind was totally blanking on things to say.

“Besides,” Lyon continued. “It actually kind of saved me there because…” he leaned forward, closer to Ephraim, the action making his heart thump, “... I totally forgot what came after,” he whispered conspiratorially.

“Wow, you practically owe me your life,” Ephraim teased in response.

“My saviour,” the purple-haired man responded, pretending to swoon. “So, um… I’m going to go and look over my lines once more. It’s really confusing how my scenes with Siegmund and Sieglinde are so different.” Ephraim nodded, reluctantly pulling himself away to give his co-star some space to concentrate.

“Ephraim!” L’arachel waved him over, carrying a plate full of food. The eccentric former soap opera actress enjoyed taking advantage of the complimentary snacks on set. Ephraim himself took an apple before approaching the woman. “Latona,” he replied, tone teasing.

“Oh, stop,” she said, waving her hand. “Anyway, I was going to ask for my clown nose back-” The previous ‘stunt’ that Vigarde was referring to was when he wore a clown nose in Naglfar’s death scene. Lyon had already been on edge, not accustomed to having to lie completely still (“I’ve never played a dead man before,” he had confessed to Ephraim early that morning), and squinting his eyes open to see Ephraim with a red nose and a tearful expression was enough to tip him over the edge into hysterical laughter.

“-but,” she continued. “After that display, I think you’re going to have to need it for the near future.”

Ephraim blinked. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re a clown,” she whisper-yelled. “You’re a clown for continuing this needless pining for that man when everyone knows you two are so into each other!”

“Wait, what- That’s not-” Ephraim stuttered. “Each other? What? Wait, everyone knows?”

L’Arachel held her hand up. “Stop. One question at a time.” She lowered her hand and started ticking off with her fingers. “Not waiting. Stop denying it. Yes, each other. Yes, I know, the cast knows, probably some extras know, Vigarde knows, everyone knows!” she cried. “We even have a bet running on what day one of you will ask the other out.”

Ephraim turned beet red. “Excuse me?”

“Incidentally,” she mused. “Today’s my day, isn’t it? HEY, LYON! EPHRAIM LIKES YOU!” she bellowed, startling some of the interns hanging nearby. Ephraim quickly grabbed her arm, hissing, “Wait, wait, stop, no-”

“Well, I sure hope he does,” a familiar voice intoned dryly beside them, “seeing as it’d be disastrous for the film if he didn’t.” Ephraim turned, L’Arachel’s forearm still gripped tightly, feeling the ever familiar state of gay panic surge within him.

“No,” L’arachel continued, gleefully, and Ephraim wished he had had the foresight to cover her mouth with his hand, “he _like_ likes you.”

“What is this, grade school?” Joshua muttered, watching the chaos unfold from the other end of the snacks table.

“Ah, I see,” Lyon said, nodding. “Well, in that case, I _like_ like him too.”

“Yes!” L’Arachel said, pumping her fist in the air.

“Fucking finally,” Eirika intoned.

Ephraim grinned, feeling giddy at his co-star’s admittance. “Really?”

“Really,” he confirmed, smiling back. “Although…” A wicked smirk appeared on his face. “Tana, could I get a confirmation on the exact wording of the bet again?”

Tana, the actress playing Nidhogg’s sister, Vidofnir, appeared, phone in hand. “The exact bet stipulates that one of you must ask the other out on a specified date for the better to win.”

“And when is my day again?”

“Say, what?” L’Arachel said.

“You bet too? You knew about this?” Ephraim asked, incredulous. Lyon grinned at him, devious. “I wanted to give myself a set day to do it. If I was wrong about it and you rejected me, at least I would be _rich_ and miserable.” The teal-haired man had to laugh at that.

Tana scrolled through her phone. “Hm… I believe your day is tomorrow, actually.”

“Great. So I’m going to hold off on asking you out until tomorrow, and I’ll split it with you if you do the same,” Lyon said breezily.

L’Arachel gaped. “You can’t do that!” She looked over at Tana, helpless, who shrugged. “Rules are rules,” she said.

“I think I can do that,” Ephraim cut in, “I can wait another day to not date you. However…” Arms curling around the purple-haired man’s waist, he leaned forward to kiss him on the lips. “I couldn’t wait to do _that_. Kissing isn’t part of the bet conditions either, right?” He directed the question to Tana, still gazing into Lyon’s eyes.

“Nope. I guess you’re free to do anything except ask each other out on a date.”

“Seriously,” murmured Innes, “who made these rules?”

Lyon laughed, tilting his head slightly downward for another kiss. “Still not dating,” he said, turning to L’Arachel, tone light and taunting.

L’Arachel glared. “In the immortal words of Latona… ‘If I were not a holy woman, I would beat you senseless.’”


End file.
